


Like Something Not A Glacier

by helens78



Category: due South
Genre: Angst, Community: stop_drop_porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-17
Updated: 2010-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:59:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even if Ray doesn't know what's wrong, he can stumble his way through making it right with sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Something Not A Glacier

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 2010-02-17, for [stop_drop_porn](http://stop-drop-porn.livejournal.com) on livejournal: [qe2](http://qe2.livejournal.com/) passed along the prompt "Frostbite" (from [sionnain](http://sionnain.livejournal.com/)). :)

Ray has never been frostbit, which from all Fraser's lectures, he's pretty sure that's a good thing. But he thinks maybe--there are times he thinks this is just how it feels, and he don't like that much, either. Because Fraser is not supposed to be like this with him, is not supposed to be like a damn iceman in Ray's bed--in _their_ bed--and it does sting, it stings like a motherfucker, and it burns, too, and getting Fraser to thaw out is something Ray has never quite gotten the hang of.

He rolls onto his side, facing Fraser; Fraser rolls onto _his_, facing away. Ray sighs but goes for it anyway, curls up close and puts his arm over Fraser's waist. Fraser lies stiff underneath him, which is the usual, totally normal for this kind of freeze-out, but what the hell--worst that happens, Fraser punches him in the head, and best-case scenario, maybe he stops being so goddamned _cold_, at least tonight.

Ray squirms closer, pressing his body up against Fraser's back. There's a little bit of a tremor--ho _ho_, getting somewhere, then. Ray's not stupid, he knows how to press his advantage, and he sets his teeth, sharp but gentle, against Fraser's shoulder.

Fraser's hand comes up, rests over the hand Ray's got on his waist. Ray flattens out his fingers, splaying them over Fraser's stomach, but Fraser doesn't try to stop him.

But a slow burn's probably better than going right for the dick, so Ray bites down softly on Fraser's skin and waits until Fraser gives him a go-ahead sign. It's light, just the tiniest little squeeze of Fraser's fingers on Ray's hand, but Ray gets it--_this_ he can get, this kind of hint he can understand. He rubs up with a little more intent behind the motion, his cock already half-hard and getting harder up against Fraser's ass. Fraser presses back against him, and all at once, he sighs--long and silent, the tension finally easing out of his body.

If Ray knew what he did just then, he'd try to bottle it and sell it and save it for later. _Mountie Relaxation Potion Number 9_, he could call it. But the truth is he doesn't have a clue, probably won't later either, and so he stops thinking so goddamn much about it and slips his hand down, wraps his fingers around Fraser's cock.

Fraser shifts a little, turning toward Ray just enough to give Ray a better angle for this. Ray presses his lips to the side of Fraser's neck, and--hey, coordination, not bad--starts stroking his cock, nice and slow, while he plants soft little kisses all in a row up to Fraser's ear. When he gets there, he nuzzles just behind it and murmurs, "Yeah?"

Another long, silent exhale, but this time Fraser nods and rolls onto his stomach. Ray stretches across him for condoms and lube, and Fraser rests his head on his arms, relaxing more and more every time Ray touches him. Ray milks _that_ for all it's worth, getting an arm underneath Fraser's chest so he can hug him while he's doing all the prepwork, rest his head against Fraser's shoulder.

It'd be better if Fraser would talk to him, if he'd just _say_ what's going on in that thick head of his instead of leaving Ray to wonder, but right now his body's opening up for Ray, legs spreading wide, hips tilting back, and when Ray gets his fingers slick--a little messy, okay, nobody's perfect, and he's doing this _one-handed_ thank you very much--when he gets 'em slick and moves 'em between Fraser's cheeks, Fraser just moans out loud. Could be louder, honestly, Ray wouldn't mind louder, but this works. Fraser opens up, taking Ray in, reminding Ray just how good it feels when it's his cock sunk deep inside Fraser's body.

"How's that?" Ray murmurs, just to have something to say. He twists his fingers just a touch, then slides them back out. Fraser nods--Ray almost can't catch it in this light, but that's a nod, so Ray goes back in, feels that heated slippery glide, skin against skin right now, 'cause with just fingers, it's safe enough. Warm--God, Fraser's so _warm_ like this, and Ray doesn't know how a guy can be hot enough to friggin' melt you and cold enough to make you worry about frostbite all at once, but--

_Jesus, Kowalski, mind on your business, okay?_

He nods to himself, working his fingers in earnest now. His cock's leaking against Fraser's thigh, but he's not gonna worry about that yet; he wants to make Fraser move, wants him to _talk_, maybe, just do _something_. He presses his fingers in deeper, holds them there, and finally, _finally_ Fraser gives 'em a tight little clench, and he nods, and he rocks his hips back like he needs more.

And outside of stuff Ray hasn't seen except in pornos, sometimes, he can't really give Fraser _more_ like this, but he knows what Fraser needs now. He pulls his hand back and wipes his fingers off on the sheets, and he has to draw himself away from Fraser so he can get the condom on. Fraser stays where he's at, boneless and quiet, and Ray has a fast mental image of just smacking him one on the ass, which, if Fraser could see how he looks right now, he would have to agree that his ass is _completely_ smackable. 'Course, that's not why Ray wants to smack him one, so he doesn't--could probably get away with a smack for smack's sake, but not just because he wants to see Fraser jump.

He does, though. He'd like to see that. He'd like to see that right now, _God_.

But now he's got the condom on and he's ready--ready, hell, he'd be dripping right on Fraser's ass if he weren't trussed up in latex--and he puts a gentle hand on Fraser's thigh to let him know he's coming. "Hey there," he murmurs. Fraser nods, and Ray starts pressing in, slow like--like a glacier, like, like something _not_ a glacier, like spring thaw.

And Fraser's starting to thaw out, too, thank _Christ_. He's moaning again, soft but getting louder, and he's pushing back, getting his head off his arms and pushing so he's up on his elbows and then, _hell, yes_, dragging himself up onto all fours. Ray goes with him--where _else_ is he gonna go, balls-deep like this, of course he's going along, and he puts both hands on Fraser's hips and squeezes.

"You want I should--" Ray's lips are dry; he licks them, top then bottom, holding Fraser hard. "You want--"

"_Yes_, Ray, harder, please," Fraser says, and okay, okay, he sounds a little bit more impatient than desperate, but Ray'll take that. Ray'll take that 'cause it means Fraser's right here and wants _more_.

So he goes in harder, groaning as Fraser's body swallows him up. He buries himself deep in Fraser's ass, over and over, and Fraser's not the only one heating up from this--Ray's hot enough he's sweating, hot enough his back's just dripping with it, hot enough his hands are slick on Fraser's hips. And Fraser, man, when he lets himself go, he can really cut loose, he can fuck back on Ray's cock until he's giving Ray these sharp little loud grunts, like it _hurts_ to get fucked this hard, like it hurts but he _needs_ it, needs it this hard and then _harder_, just--

"Ray, _harder_," Fraser says, politeness forgotten because that one extra second it takes to be courteous is just too damn much when what he wants is to have the breath fucked out of him but _good_. And Ray's ready for that, knew that was coming, so he reaches up, over that strong scarred back of Fraser's, 'til he's got his hands on Fraser's shoulders and he's drawing him back, _back_, into every rough, deep, thrust, each one of 'em meant to leave an ache that Fraser can feel all the way through to next _week_.

That's what it takes. That's what it takes to get Fraser there with him, gasping and grunting and moaning, and oh, fuck, the problem with getting Fraser there is it gets _Ray_ so goddamned hot he doesn't see how he can possibly hold out for much of this. He gets in another stroke--another two, three--and then he's scrambling, reaching down for Fraser's cock, jerking Fraser off just as fast and rough as he's fucking him. "C'mon," Ray pants. "C'mon, yeah, that's it, I know you wanna, just--"

"_Yes_," Fraser moans, and he does, comes in hot sticky streaks all over Ray's hand and the bed, and Ray holds on until he's finished, keeps stroking until Fraser starts to seize up again. And then it's his turn: short, sharp, fast little thrusts until he's grinding his hips up against Fraser's ass, cock jerking, hands pulling Fraser's hips back so he can be a part of him, _inside_ him, as deep as it's possible to get.

He's always trying for that, and this is the best he ever does with it.

He tries not to think about it too hard; he doesn't want to sound pathetic, even to himself.

When he's finished, when he's backed away and has the condom stripped off, he uses the cleaner of his hands--which is not saying much--to pat Fraser on the back. "Stay here and I'll get you a towel," he murmurs.

"That..." Fraser sighs and rolls onto his side, facing the edge of the bed--away from where Ray'll be when he gets back. "That would be very kind of you, Ray. Thank you."

"That's me. Kind to a fault," Ray mutters, heading for the bathroom. He ditches the condom, washes his hands off, splashes a little water on his face.

Fraser can have Ray fuck him until they're both so sore they can hardly stand up, but he won't say _why_. Ray could go crazy thinking about that.

He brings Fraser a towel anyway, and a warm, damp washcloth, and a glass of water, too, setting them all up on Fraser's nightstand. He walks back around, climbs into the bed on his side--well, at least Fraser's got the wet spot. There's something.

But when Fraser's finished cleaning up and he's had a swig of water, he rolls back over. Ray's so surprised he almost clocks Fraser one with his elbow, trying to get it out of the way; fortunately, Fraser's somehow got enough dext--dexterawhat, dextrousness, to dodge the shot and curl up on Ray's chest. There's been something tight in there all night, but Ray can feel it relaxing some now, like maybe Fraser's warming it up.

"You--hey," Ray murmurs. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No," Fraser murmurs back. Ray can feel Fraser's eyelashes brush against his chest as Fraser blinks them open, then lets them fall closed again. "Good night, Ray."

Ray wraps both arms around Fraser and holds on tight. "G'night," he says. "Sleep safe, buddy."

_-end-_


End file.
